Life Sucks
by PepSquee777
Summary: A collection of stories detailing the adolcence of a certain Todd Casil. PepSquee/PaSr will be persent.
1. Intro

**Intro**

When you have a memory clear as mine, you could relive the first few moments of your life and feel like it just happened to you (again, that is). With a memory like mine, every single second from the moment you opened your eyes is fresh as daisies. And, though that may be a blessing in some cases—like remembering when your homework is due; names and dates stick to you like flies to a spider's web; you can spew any random quote that no one else had ever heard just to sound smart; etc—it can still be just as much a curse as any. You see every nightmare, every terrible thing that had ever happened to you, every single day. And, though most could just forget the bad things, the horror of both reality and fantasy, my memories are here to stay. My bad things never seem to go away. And, I sure wish they did.

I'm Todd. And, quite frankly, my life sucks.

Before we get into the whole "Well, yeah, it's life; it's going to suck" thing, I'd like to get a few things out of the way.

1. My neighbor is a homicidal maniac. He's a schizophrenic, so he does what his "voices" tell him to do. The worst thing is that he's an insomniac—I hear the screams of his victims every single night.

2. My friends are pretty bad, too. I love them, but… One's the cross-dressing Antichrist, another is a demon girl obsessed with Vampire Piggies 3 and pizza. Two more: A paranormal investigator and a defective extra-terrestrial, dating each other's sisters and bent on destroying the other. Those two are pretty close, though, so don't let 'em fool you. Then there's the Grim Reaper's "BFF", and a revenge-driven invader from another planet. Next, Death's child, and the Demonsword Miester, a happy-go-lucky blonde guy (actually, I hate him. Not sure why…), and his girlfriend—a terrifyingly genius, blatant mad scientist. Oh, and this spooky tentacle-whatever guy. He's the Antichrist's "cousin". Then, next in line to be Death—a cute little girl with curly dark hair and shiny blue eyes, and- You know, I should probably just stop. I have quite a few friends, and this isn't getting us anywhere. In other words, _all of my friends are horrifying beats. _Now, let's move on.

3. My teddy bear became a human. Yeah. No one to cuddle when I go to bed anymore—cuddling a man with stitches all over his face sounds kind of…_iffy_, especially if you saw him get those cuts before-hand (it was my neighbor! He came in, took the disinfectant, stabbed my bear, and left! Who _else_ do you know that can say that, _huh_?) and just stood and watched (in shock and fear). Even if I wanted to, he'd be too busy making me feel guilty to help me keep the nightmares away.

4. My worst nightmare is reality. I've gotten run-over, beaten, _raped_ (that, I'd rather not speak about), mugged, attacked by squirrels, dogs, cats, monkeys, and even one giraffe (I still don't know how the hell that got in my house), abducted by aliens, turned _into _an alien, molested (once when I was five, almost when I was six—my neighbor saw the old man drag me away against my will and saved me, then again when I was nine), bitten by a vampire (and, if I might just say, _ouch_), pranked by a duck, beaten at a Yo Momma Showdown by Dracula's wife, uh, let's see, Satan flirted with me (scary), my stuffed bear told (tells) me to burn things and people and places and, uh, _nouns_… I was taken to the past, to the future, my future self came when I was six and scared me to near death with the whole "_MY SPINE IS LIQUIFYING!" _episode, uh, oh, and then, of course, my "mother" is a druggie and my "father" is an abusive workaholic that hates my guts. Well, they _were_, until, y'know, my neighbor killed them.

5. The dwindling remains of my sanity fall from my desperate fingertips like rain from the sky.


	2. Chapter One: Monkey Suit

**Monkey Suit**

I live alone, with my teddy bear, Shmee, and sometimes my boyfriend, the Antichrist (also known as Pepito), in house #779. My neighbor Johnny—or just Nny, if he likes you—lives to my left, in house #777. We live on the end of Elm Street, which is a dead-end, and is only a few miles away from the local 24-7. This no-named town literally doesn't _have _a name, and we are recognized only for our world-known hero, Professor Membrane, the father of my two closest friends, Gazlene Membrane and Dib Membrane. The two live just around the corner, and beyond that is the Cul-de-Sac, in which Zimothy and Zimantha (or Zim and Zima*), live.

I'm an author. Or, I want to be. At the moment I'm just barely crawling (and slipping off of) the magnificently metaphorical ladder to being successful and being published. My boyfriend loves to draw just as much as I love to write, thus making him my illustrator and me his author—we have a very understanding, symbiotic relationship. I couldn't really ask for much better, when it comes to Pepito. I'm also a swordsman. After Johnny "forgot" one of his swords (with the little smiley-face at the end of the handle) in my room one night, a few long years ago, I'd learned of a very odd, secret talent hidden within me—the ability to use a sword like an extension of my limb.**

As a Sophomore in high school, I've got to keep my game on, so I study hard every night, even when we really don't learn anything knew. I wish the education system here wasn't so crappy. I'd really like to learn something every once in a while. I learn almost everything by reading, but Mrs. Diablo (Pepito's mother) and Johnny have taught me a few select things here and there. In fact, now that I think about it, I've been taught at least one life lesson by every single person I meet. _Neat!_Well, back on the subject of reading, there's a bookstore only a few miles into town, where a nice woman named Devi works. She has a pretty girlfriend named Tenna that I really like because she's so energetic and bursting with life. Devi, however, is kind of the opposite. She's really nice, but can be snarky and ferocious, too. She scares me—but so does Tenna, in an uncomfortable, please-don't-touch-me kind of way. I like that bookstore. It smells like peaches…

Oh, hey! Guess who just walked in…

"Todd," growls Pepito. "Look at what they've done to me!"

And I do. I look him up and down, trying to find something wrong. "What who did to you, Pep?" His eyes shine with anger, one a lovely indigo, the other a fiery crimson, and I find myself worried for the life of whoever did whatever to him. "Is everything alright?"

Stomping across the room like an angry, well, Antichrist, he throws the book I'm reading (_Pride and Prejudiced and Zombies_) across the room to curl up in my lap. "No, everything is not alright, Todd. They made me. They _made_me."

"Made you do what, honey? And who made you do it?"

"Those two horrible siblings made me wear _this _thing!" He points down to the dress shirt and pants he's wearing, shuddering. His disgusted reaction reminded me of the time he'd lost a bet, and had been forced to kiss a girl; something I hadn't been too happy about, either.

I sigh, "Pepito, you look precious. Honestly, stop being such a baby." You wouldn't believe how many times I've repeated the same thing, over and over and _over_and-

"THE ANTICHRIST IS NO BABY."

"No, but the Antichrist is acting like one." I tug at the collar of his long-sleeved, button-up, violet top. "I think you look great, as per usual."

"I know that I look great." He replies, pouting.

I furrow my brow, sighing again. This boy is being difficult. "Then what's wrong?"

"Of these _pants_ I am not _fond_." A feral growl leaves his lips.

The dress pants fit him perfectly, complimenting his long legs and slim figure. I couldn't see what he was talking about. But, that was nothing different.

"Honey, you look amazing." I place a chaste kiss on his forehead. "Stop fretting."

He makes a not-too-pleased sound in the back of his throat as he curls closer into my chest. Instead of speaking his reply, he pinches my shoulder vehemently. A sharp pain rushes to the skin between his fingers.

It hurts, but you can probably inference from what I've told you that I've experienced much worse. So, I laugh, "Good boy."

-

*Z-eye-muh _My OC _She can be found in a bit more detail on my other account, Potatoes4Eva

**I always thought that kind of stuff was epic. That's why Raikou Shimizu is my new Jeeziz. :) Samarai's are epic.


End file.
